Maybe Stories
by Stone Shield
Summary: This is a compilation of the stories that I'm considering writing or just haven't filled out yet.  The way I figure it, if I spam my account with all the "works in progress", so whenever I get sidetracked I can at least update some other stories.
1. NarutoHP  Prologue

What Is Old Made New

Disclaimer: I own neither Naruto nor Harry Potter, as my empty wallet proves quite easily.

AN/ This is really just a beginning scrap.

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><p>Prologue:<p>

The night air was crisp as a cloaked figure leisurely walked from the gates of the castle to the treeline, not even pausing as it crossed the threshold into the dangerous forest. It walked for some time, weaving in between monstrous trees and gnarled, creeping roots. Eventually though, it stopped before a particularly monstrous tree. Upon closer examination, a door could be found nestled at its base among the roots, the intricate carvings shining in the pale moonlight. Knocking softly, the figure stood and waited. It wasn't long however before the door opened, though no one was on the other side. Expecting as much, the figure walked through, closing the door behind him, and continued down the winding stairs.

Descending quite nearly a hundred feet, the stairs ended at another doorway, this one with its door open. Entering, the room was revealed to be no different than you'd find in any cottage, belying the fact that it was far below the earth. Looking around, the figure found its target sitting comfortably beside the fireplace, a rather large book aloft in hand while, on a small side table, steam wafted over the lip of a large mug.

"Albus, always a pleasure," the young man said, peeking over the crest of the book.

Smiling wanly over at his host, "Indeed, my friend."

Motioning to the chair opposite himself, "Please, sit."

Removing his cloak, Albus Wulfric Percival Brian Dumbledore, Headmaster of Hogwarts, eased himself back into the worn yet comfortable chair.

"I can sense that you aren't here for pleasantries, otherwise you'd have sent word earlier and I would've set up the chess board. What's wrong?" the young man asked.

Dumbledore sighed tiredly, his face betraying his age, "There are troubling times ahead, my friend. You have doubtless heard that there will be a tournament hosted by Hogwarts this year." It wasn't to officially be announced until the beginning of the school year, only high ranking wizards currently knowing, but he knew, without a doubt, that the blonde was aware of it.

The blonde shrugged, "So what if I have?"

Dumbledore smiled craftily. He had little doubt that the man before him knew far far more than he ever let on. "There will be many new faces visiting Hogwarts, not all of them necessarily pleasant. It will undoubtedly garner a great deal of attention, not all of it favorable."

"…"

"Which makes my request all the more difficult, but no less necessary." Leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees, "I would like you to take up a teaching position for the year." The man snorted in disbelief. "Hear me out, my friend. I feel you might be able to prepare the students for the dangers that I fear loom on the horizon."

Willing to let his friend prove his point, he leant back. "In what way? I doubt your Ministry would allow me to teach students to fight hand to hand."

"I was thinking along the lines of your knowledge of seals."

The blonde whistled. "…That's asking a lot."

"It's not conditional of our friendship," Dumbledore amended. "I'm simply hoping you will consider it."

Scratching his head, he regarded the aged wizard in front of him. "No promises…but I'll think about it."

Dumbledore's face was split by a grin. "Wonderful." Posture relaxing, he watched the fire with his host. "Where is-"

"I'm here, Albus," chimed a clear, soft voice. Both men turned to see the woman walk into the dim room. She was wearing an oversized robe, seeming to dwarf her in its folds, over a simple cotton nightgown, and was rubbing at her eyes sleepily. Sending a weak glare at the blonde, "You should've woke me. We don't often have guests." Waving his arms in a placating fashion, he fish-mouthed silently. Smiling puckishly, she sat on the arm of his chair before ruffling his hair. And while he pouted, she openly stole his hot drink from the table.

Mm, fresh cocoa truly was the best.

Dumbledore's eyes gleamed with hidden laughter. It was always so very interesting to see the dynamic between the two, but, for the moment, he saw an opportunity. "I was just speaking to your husband about a teaching position at the school for this year, and, should he do well, potentially long-term." Dumbledore nodded sagely. "You have quite the talent for stirring things up, and, in the coming times, that could prove useful."

Despite their appearance, looking barely into their twenties, if that, being generous, both were actually quite old. By human standards. If he remembered correctly, they were both a little over seven centuries, yet they hardly looked into their twenties, the majority of which was spent together. Still, with their age came knowledge, experience, and wisdom.

And boredom. Which he could use to win them over.

Oh, and then of course… "The offer would go out to you as well," the aged wizard looking back to the angelic woman. "With what is to happen this year, I'm quite sure Poppy would appreciate another hand in the medical wing." He caught the interested gleam in her pale eyes.

Slumping sourly in his chair in a mock pout, the young man looked lost in thought before answering quietly, "I'll still need some time to think about it."

Rubbing his eyes tiredly, "I'm sorry, it is late already. The students are due to arrive at the end of the month, and there is still so much to do before then. It has been good seeing you again."

The young woman smiled kindly back. "You are always welcome here, Albus."

Dumbledore nodded. "Of course. Thank you, my friends," he responded as he climbed to his feet, donning his cloak.

"How many years is it going to take before you call me by name?" his host asked, a sour expression on his face.

"It hardly seems orthodox, Naruto," proving him wrong right then and there.

"Yeah, well, I'm not orthodox by anyone's standards," he called to the retreating Headmaster. Who felt at least gracious enough to address the woman among them. "Lady Hinata."

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><p>The door long closed, Dumbledore's energy signature retreating from their hidden home, Hinata fell backwards into the arms of the seated Naruto. "What're you thinking?" she asked childishly, pulling playfully on one of his longer blonde spikes.<p>

"How much I love you?"

"Good answer," she congratulated, using his spiky hair handles to pull him down into a quick, but deep, kiss. Lips parting, a cute, button-nose nuzzled against a tan cheek, warmly affectionate in intent, and soon mirrored by the arms encircling her.

* * *

><p>AN I don't know if I'll ever develop this story, but I at least wanted to post this part as I think it is a good show of how Naruto and Hinata would mesh as a couple.

"_For love is immortality._" – Emily Dixkinson


	2. Naruto and the X-Men: The Lauras

Naruto and the X-Men: The Lauras

AN/ A One-Shot that I'd hoped would one day become part of a full-fledged story. A change of pace where, instead of Wolverine finding the Lauras in the future, Naruto finds them in the present.

Warning, kinda lime-ish.

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><p>Surreal, that was the best descriptor that came to mind. Each was beautiful…in exactly the same way, as could be expected given the precision similarity in their genetic makeup. They were all rather pale, but that too was understandable as they'd spent the entirety of their lives in the labs where they'd been…born.<p>

At no time had he intended to keep them, a point he felt needed to be made immensely clear. All he'd intended to do was walk into the Facility, help anyone if there was anyone to help, and, subsequently, wreck the place. But there hadn't been anyone there to rescue. Scientists, yes. Labcoats. He'd been about to say "screw it" when he found them in an expansive lab, each confined to a tube with frosted glass. He gently asked a surviving labcoat what the deal was, only breaking three fingers as incentive. So, gentle. And the man spilled. He hadn't been very happy with the whole cloned to be weapons spiel.

Simple as his hero complex was, it left him thinking: free them. Nothing else. He'd not given thought to what to do with them afterward, beyond the assumption that they'd make lives for themselves. In a sense, that attitude was very…irresponsible. Regardless of his thoughts beforehand, it hadn't occurred to him that they would be so…clingy.

They treated him like a proverbial alpha. It still took some getting used to. They deferred to him and were shockingly…protective over him. Obsessive, even. At first, he'd thought it was respect as he had proudly given a good showing in their fight, but their subtle, and some not so subtle, actions had quickly straightened out the truth. Within minutes of freeing them from their hibernative receptacles, they'd foregone all attempts at questions or thanks and attacked him. He figured it was because he wasn't a member of the Facility. Or, it could also have been the stuff that labcoat had sprayed him with when he'd turned his back on him, given that the quartet had sniffed the air and quite suddenly stiffened before launching themselves at him. Any way you look at it, they'd immediately started working him over. They were a spritely bunch…with nice pointy claws. It was in progressively winning in a prolonged fight that things started to change. In their eyes, the outright bloodrage started to dissipate. Ferocity was readily overcome by curiosity, even fascination.

It was when one of them playfully bit him that he started to wonder.

Not a week out of the Facility, and they'd cornered him.

He supposed, for the sake of humility, that he should say he didn't remember much of it all, but that would be a horrendous lie of the worst kind. There was nothing could remove the memories of that thirty-seven hour stint from his mind.

A humble-brag.

They weren't loquacious, far from it in fact, but they were certainly enthusiastic. Passionate was another word to describe them…so, too, was wild.

Sheets askew, the bed was covered in the unconscious bodies of the four identical young women. Arms and legs either draped across the dozing blonde, or otherwise wrapped around him. On his left, one nuzzled his jaw, nibbling his ear affectionately while her remaining conscious…sisters, some only just recovering, stirred to join in.

Round one, completed.

Round two…in progress.

It wasn't like he'd asked for this, nor that they did it out of some form of repayment for their freedom either as he'd come to understand. Conversely to that though, he didn't mind it either. He'd tried to explain to them that they didn't need to be so…with him. But every time he'd tried it, they looked at him like he was an idiot and ignored anything else he said. Often before throwing him onto the nearest mattress, or really just any flat surface.

He'd tried his best to instill some idea of self into them. That is, that they could look for ways to differentiate themselves from one another, establishing a greater sense of self, and helping him out to boot. They'd dabbled with their appearances, but he suspected that any true personality differences could take years to develop.

All four of the sisters shared identical features, but, even with the same conditioning, showed minute signs that he could differentiate them with. Facial twitches, and small differences in personality, the latter easily expressed through choice in clothing. Laura (No difference), the one who'd bitten him that first time, tended to wear a dark purple top over formfitting pants of the same color, a stylized choker around her neck.

Desiree wore her dark brown hair cut just below chin. She tended to favor a hip-length trench coat over a t-shirt with her trim belly exposed, and jeans.

Sarah's hair stopped at her shoulders. Usually she preferred a strapless corset over a split, leather miniskirt. Fingerless gloves almost always on her hands.

Then there was Lyra. Bangs hanging loosely, she most often had her shoulder-length pinned up, or in a braid. And like her sisters, finding a style of clothing she seemed content with she tended to stay with it. In her case, a tube-top and dark jeans, completed by a dark pair of wristbands.

Sarah's nibbling of his ear told him that he was letting his mind wander too much for their taste.

And, for the record, he was just that good to be able to tell them apart when in the buff.

Did this make him a pervert?

Or, did it make him their living dildo?

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><p>AN Another one of those small ideas that never really saw any development. Oh well... Still writing. Just...busy, and kind of hoping to see more of how the Naruto manga unfolds before I miss something awesome.


	3. Naruto x Young Justice Intro Piece

Naruto x Young Justice  
>Intro<br>Rated M, as always for the unexpected.  
>Disclaimer: Don't own Naruto or Young Justice.<p>

AN/ Not to be mistaken for the immediate start of a new story.

* * *

><p>"Well, doctor? How's our patient?" Despite the cordial tone, there was no truth to it. The owner was by no means as friendly as he sounded. Not that the white silhouette against a background of light gave any idea as to its owner.<p>

The one on the receiving end of this inspection... Dr. Desmond, chosen not just for his skill and expertise in his field, but for his ethical and moral…flexibility.

Making no show of annoyance for being interrupted in his BLOCKBUSTER research, he picked up a packet from the edge of the table. Clipboard in hand, he casually flipped through a few pages, which, to the quick eye, were derived from the young man currently in the neighboring room. Said chamber was solid, reinforced multiple times with incredibly durable alloys. It was spartan, and empty but for the exception of a fitfully sleeping teen strapped down to a reinforced hospital bed. Multiple I.V.s stuck in his body, indicative of his sleep being unnatural. "The rate at which he regenerates is astounding," he offered for starters to the "light" person.

"He's been in your care for over three weeks. Why aren't we seeing any progress?" Hence, the unscheduled "check up" in the form of a conference call directly to his lab.

He knew what was being thrown back at him. When first captured, testing post-capture had alluded to the conjecture that the subject had been incredibly weak…but regardless of that condition had still managed to best three squads. It was only through pure luck that they managed to capture him at all. But his superiors, they thought of such as fate. A weapon delivered into their hands to defend against their…enemies. "He's shown a surprising resilience against the mental probing of the genomorphs, but no reason to worry. He's being given a cocktail of the most potent sedatives we have access to. And even if he did manage to stay awake for any length of time, the lasting effects should disorient him long enough for us to give him a stronger dose. We won't be able to make any progress towards replicating him or his abilities in genomorphs though until we map more of his dna."

"That wasn't what I asked, doctor," the voice snapped, losing its friendliness, fake or otherwise.

Anyone else might have flinched at the tone, but Doctor Desmond nodded. "It's proving…difficult." Rubbing his temple, he looked over the papers. "Your…source…identified the odd energy he emitted as being tinged with "mystic energies"." He internally scoffed. He was a man of science. "I am loathe to admit that we have been having trouble maintaining stable genetic samples," he grumbled. "But, all other possibilities exhausted, it is the only remaining answer. The genetic mapping is still in progress. We simply don't yet know enough about his genetics and physiology to-"

"Get it done, Desmond," the voice insisted, cutting him off mid-tirade. "This could be the break we need." Desmond refrained from openly scowling at the impatience, but he knew better than to say anything about it. He was the head scientist in the facility, but he knew what mouthing off to his superiors would do to him, _here_ especially. And even he had heard the stories floating around about people who mouthed off. Not a one could be tracked down to corroborate the story though.

Double-X watched impassively from the sidelines, eyes covertly darting to the twitching occupant of the cell.

* * *

><p>(In the cell)<p>

It was hard to describe, awareness. Given the…interesting aspects of his life-long…condition, he could sometimes draw his mind into the seal. But even that was denied him as the ongoing assault left him little more than a weakened, flaccid body. These people were…experimenting on him. He managed to get that much from fragmented, semi-lucid memories.

He wasn't aware of it, what with his current torture, but he did know that his last solid memory was of Madara.

The demon sealing statue…

…And the biggest Rasenshuriken he could manage.

If he'd been aware of remembering that particular memory at the time, he would've smirked.

These people really knew how to greet a guy. Big hero and all, dissection hadn't been high on his list of expectations. Then again, at first, he had thought he'd died.

This was _not_ heaven.

Not quite Hell either. Close, but not quite.

Grinding his teeth, his body doing so on instinct and not will, he tried again to block out the noise. Failing.

In short, could he actually form a coherent thought…pissed wouldn't quite cover it. They would put him out with drugs when they wanted to do their…testing. He wasn't sure what, but the mere thought made his gorge rise. When he was awake, which was most of the time…like now…

He clenched his fist.

Amazing, how much effort it took.

Assaulted at every turn. Sight and sound overwhelmed to the point where his mind was a jumbled mess of raw nerves. It was like the worst migraine he'd ever had…multiplied several orders of magnitude. Usually, such stress would draw out his demonic chakra, but the drugs combined with the blinding disorientation of his senses left him weak as a newborn. He just couldn't collect himself enough to draw out the power to escape.

But rage fostered within him.

The rage of the captured.

He would be free…and they…

* * *

><p>(Elsewhere in the underground facility)<p>

Wrenching the doors to the elevator shaft open, Aqualad held them open as his other teammates passed through, Robin grabbing Kid Flash and ascending via a hastily launched line, before himself being assisted by their new ally, Superboy.

Grabbing the dark skinned teen, Superboy soared upward.

But, all too soon, he slowed. "I…I'm falling," he exclaimed in shock, and down they went.

Not too far below them, Robin lashed out, embedding a piton in the wall just in time for Aqualad to grab and stop their descent. The quick stop was jarring, but both were strong. Regardless, Superboy seemed momentarily lost. "Superman can fly… Why can't I fly?"

"Don't know…but it looks like you _can_ leap tall buildings in a single bound," Kid Flash interrupted from just below them. "Still cool," and helped Superboy down onto the side girder he and Robin were standing on. Kaldur dropping down next.

"Thank you," Superboy offered feebly.

Robin's urgent cry turned the atmosphere tense. "Guys! This'll have to be our exit!" Just above them, the express elevator was coming down on their heads, and fast.

Bringing his arm out, Superboy dropped the bottom of his fist back into the elevator doors, sending them rocketing into the empty hall. None of them needed any further urging as they hastily dove through just as the elevator shot past.

The elevator doors had been marked as SL-15. They'd made some distance, but were still fifteen floors from the surface.

All too soon though, genomorphs came barreling at them from down the hall. Their only choice was to take the side hallway right off the elevator. "_Turn left, brother._" Superboy's eyes widened at the mental prodding. Pausing, just for a second, he made up his mind.

"Go left!" he cried out. "Left!"

"_Turn right,_" the voice added.

"Right!" And they were led right into a dead end.

Kid Flash, at the front of the group, was the first to get there and see the problem. "Great directions, Supie," Kid Flash snapped exasperatedly. "You trying to get us re-podded?!"

"No, I…I don't understand." And he really didn't. That voice…he'd felt he could trust it. It hadn't told him what to do, simply recommended.

Robin was taking this far better than they were. Grinning from ear to ear, "Don't apologize. This is perfect!" Unlike the others, his eyes weren't on the wall, but, more specifically, the air vent near the top.

* * *

><p>(Very Shortly Later)<p>

Genomorphs of varying types stumbled onto the dead end, but, finding nothing immediately visible, were drawn to the open air vent, its cover ripped off and discarded.

* * *

><p>Robin was in the lead, this was his forte after all. He was followed by Aqualad, then Kid Flash, and Superboy took up the rear.<p>

The speedster wasn't taking the slow pace too well though. "At this rate we'll never get out!" he grumped.

"Ssh!" Superboy looked back the way they'd come. "Listen." He could hear something. And, the more he tried, the more defined the sound became. Rattling and scratching sounds…

* * *

><p>Out of their field of vision, the smaller genomorph combatants scurried through the vents in pursuit.<p>

At the head of a troupe of genomorphs Desmond and Guardian, followed shortly by Double X, were in hot pursuit of the "sidekicks". "Someone, Robin, I'd wager, hacked our systems, deactivating internal security cameras, _but_ he neglected the motion sensors," Dr. Desmond grit out smugly as he monitored the movement through the air ducts on the computer pad. "The genomorphs are closing in. They're all coming out in here!"

The Mens Room.

Roughly shoving the door open, he marched right in, eyes on his pad. "We have them cornered." Eyes flickering between the rapidly beeping pad and his surroundings, he strode right up to the air vent. A second later, a handful of the smaller genomorphs fell outward and onto the doctor, covering him and knocking him to the floor.

Grimacing, "He hacked the motion sensors," he growled.

* * *

><p>Robin smirked archly, turning back from his wrist computer. "I hacked the motion sensors," he elucidated.<p>

Kid Flash grinned widely in approval. "Sweet!"

"Still plenty of them between us and out," he reminded.

"But I've finally got room to move!" the speedster crowed confidently, sliding the goggles from his forehead down over his eyes.

"_The door to your left. Open it, brother. The one inside can help you."_ Superboy was hesitant, but that didn't last long. Their options, his and those of the other teens he'd banded together with, were limited. And, so far, the voice had only helped. "Wait," he broke in before Kid Flash, leg raised, poised to sprint, could go anywhere. Ramming his fingers into the hairline cracks on either side of the vault-like door, he plied his strength. The metal creaked, bent, and then crumpled. Almost immediately upon its breach, they were all assaulted by a myriad of harsh sounds and bright, flashing lights.

"Dude! Where're you-Crap! What is that?!" KF ground out, an index finger firmly lodged in either ear. "Could you have picked a _louder_ room?!"

Robin and Kaldur seemed to bear with the pain, as most likely they'd been trained to handle such.

"We don't have time for this," Aqualad broke in over the din. "They doubtless know where we are now. We cannot afford to stay here long."

"There's someone in here," Superboy explained, though he had no idea how he knew what he did. "A prisoner." His ears were ringing, and the lights stung his eyes, disorienting him, but he entered anyway, followed by the others. "Can you do something about that?" the clone asked, grinding his teeth loud enough for the others to hear.

Robin scoffed. "Please. With their systems? Child's play." He once more tapped into the CADMUS systems via the computer embedded in his gauntlet. It took a moment, but the lights, the sound, they all went dead. Laid out on a hospital bed was a teen in their own age range. Anywhere from fourteen to seventeen, by Robin's guess. Clad only in a pair of linen pants, he was barefoot and bare-chested, a faded claw-like scar marring the flesh over his heart.

(A note: This is his latest wound from his defeat and subsequent killing of Sasuke at the end of the 4th war just prior to his fight with Madara. The scar didn't heal as he carried some psychological baggage as a result of the fight's outcome. A part of him didn't want it to heal, wanted to remember, slowing the healing but not stopping it.)

He was strapped down.

_Seriously_ strapped down.

The more inflexible parts of his body were held by reinforced straps like you'd normally see, but on the major joints and other points of interest…metal anchored him. Not wasting a moment, KF blurred over to the bed and picked up the chart on its end, zooming through it. Whistling, he held up the clipboard. "Dude, check this out," handing the papers to Robin, him being more likely to understand what was on them.

Skimming the pages at the bedside, "Sensory overload," Robin mused. "Something about keeping him disoriented. And with all the drugs they're pumping in him… They really didn't want him lucid for any length of time." A formerly limp hand shot out, likely painfully against the restraint, to grasp his wrist in a surprisingly strong hold.

"Whoa! Zombie!" KF freaked, jumping back from the table. From where he lay, the teen's eyes were now open.

"…Get…me…out of here…" he urged. His voice sounding like he was talking through a mouthful of sandpaper and cotton, scratchy and muffled.

They all shared a look, even Superboy, before Robin, prying the hand from around his forearm, started to unstrap him with Aqualad's help. Noting the teen's weakened condition, recognizing how little a threat he posed, KF was no longer maintaining his distance. Instead, he was at the head of the bed, amiably chatting up the drowsy blonde. "Dude, they did _not_ want you getting out." Straps and restraints gone, he tried to sit up. He wobbled before several arms steadied him. "I mean, as many drugs as they had you on, and you're conscious? That's something to be kinda proud over."

"…Lucky me." Looking blearily down at his arms, feeling the resistance, he inwardly snarled at the needled tubes pouring their liquid sloth through his veins. Distaste still showing, he ripped them out one after the other.

"I'd ask if you can stand, but, really, you kinda need to run," Robin advised.

Already, he could feel the effects of the drugs fading. His metabolism, though weakened, was purging his system, and, now that he could concentrate, he could aid it with some conscious effort. "I…can run," he assured. Holding his hands up before him, he clenched them experimentally. Their reaction time to his will was slow…for him. But…

He was growing stronger by the second. With every heart beat, every breath, strength long faded returned to him. His expression of fatigue transformed into one of outrage. Freedom. And, by their haste, a fight to attain it. Oh, he may feel like his head was in the sand, but he was so spoiling for a fight with his captors.

"Give me a second."

"Hello? Tight schedule!" Kid Flash reminded, dramatically pointing to his gloved wrist.

Kaldur nodded curtly. "He's right. We need to leave. Now!"

The blonde scowled. "They took my blood." Walking across the room, he drew back his fist and, channeling youki, hammered it into the door. The door creaked, but held. It wasn't as solid as some of the other more reinforced ones, but it was still sturdy. Jamming his hands in, he wrenched it open.

"Make it quick!" Robin huffed. If any of them were surprised by his strength, they didn't show it. Save the acting surprised for later. What followed was a loud collection of glass-like crashing sounds. Not ten seconds later, the blonde stepped back out wearing a satisfied, if still grim, smirk.

"I'm done."

"Fine! Can. We. Go?!" KF demanded, jogging in place.

"_Not without my effects,_" the blonde thought, grabbing a plastic bag from a bin he'd noticed. Slipping it into his waistband, he sidled after the teens.

* * *

><p>Kid Flash raced up level after level, plowing through several groups of genomorphs as he closed in on the ground floor. This left the others to run in his wake and handle those still standing, and the ones coming up from the rear. Robin, wrist computer lighting up, called back to Superboy. "More behind us!"<p>

Stopping at the top of a stairwell, the cloned Kryptonian brought his heel down, bringing the stairs crashing downward, along with the troupe genomorphs currently following them.

* * *

><p>Taking the elevator, Desmond, Guardian, and the clustered genomorphs watched the counter as they ascended. "We'll cut them off at Sub-Level 1," Guardian presented.<p>

"We'd better. Or the Board will have our heads." Dr. Desmond massaged his forehead, actually trying to imagine the possible punishments for a failure of this magnitude. "My head." A twinge of panic setting in, his hand shot to the elevator console, freezing the elevator. The doors opened and he rushed out. "I need to get something from Project BLOCKBUSTER," he explained, running off. "Just in case… I'll meet you at Sub-Level 1!"

* * *

><p>Clearing the stairwell, Kid Flash exploded out of the door and into Sub-Level 1, making a beeline for the door. As if in response to his presence, the lighting shifted to red, klaxons blaring, and the armored doors rushed into place, blocking his path.<p>

Eyes wide, "Oh, crud," he groaned, skidding. Unable to stop, he slammed bodily into the metal plate before bouncing off of it like a rubber ball. Rolling backward, he came to a stop on his back.

"We're cut off from the street," Kaldur apprised, the other four catching up to the downed speedster.

"Thanks," KF griped, rubbing his bruised skull. "My head hadn't noticed."

Fist clenched, Superboy stepped forward, bolting towards the door. "Thoom!" His punches didn't even dent the blast door. Jamming his fingers into the crack, he tried to pry them apart, Kaldur joining him a second later.

Stepping forward, the blonde, hopefully _former_ prisoner, leapt up over them…and seemed to adhere to the metal door. His hands were swathed in a white energy, almost like fire, forming rough looking claws. Gritting his teeth, he rammed the energy based claws into the nigh invisible seam. Any further shock was put aside in favor of teamwork.

The door creaked.

Meanwhile, Robin had been busy on his wrist computer, trying his utmost to break through all the security measures currently preventing them from escaping. "Rrrh, can't hack this fast enough," he snapped to himself. His head shot around to see a gang of slow, but still dauntingly large genomorphs shuffling up behind them.

So much for the door. "This way!" he urged, hastily kicking down a side door and bolting through.

But not to where they expected to end up. Definitely not where they wanted to, either.

They came to a stop, immediately noting they had all but dropped into a swarm of genomorphs, Guardian in the lead. The synthetic soldiers closed in on them. The teens tensed, readying for the fight…but it wasn't to be. All over, the diminutive genomorph Gnomes' horns glowed bright red.

Every one of them felt staggered, as if hit by a mental brick.

Almost as one, they all fell under the might of the gathered genomorphs' mental powers. Except for him. He was dropped to one knee, but he fought it with all he had. Teeth bared in a silent snarl, twitching bodily in protest to their overpowering mental suggestions, he glared rage back at them. Blue eyes glowed in defiant channeling of his power.

He would _not_ fall.

He knew what it meant and he refused them.

"_Perhaps for the sake of all genomorphs, our brother, Superboy, should be allowed to make up his own mind._"

Blinking, as if from only a momentary daze, Superboy's head shot up, attention homing in on the genomorph in doctor's scrubs that stepped ever closer. "_It was you._"

"_Yes, brother,_" it broadcast in monotone, not seeming to care if anyone else might hear. "_I set the fire and lured your new friends down into CADMUS. Woke them when they were in danger_-"

"_And guided me,_" Superboy added, remembering this voice now. It had been the one giving him the advice that had gotten them this far. "_Why?_"

"_Because you are our hope. The genomorph hero," he explained. "You will blaze a trail for all our brothers, showing us the way to freedom._" From the sidelines, Guardian shook his golden-helmed head, groaning tiredly as the Gnome left his shoulder, removing its control over his mind.

"What? What's…going on?" his hand coming up to his face in a habitual motion attributed to headaches or fatigue.

Groaning themselves, the teens all climbed unsteadily back to their feet.

"_What is your choice, brother?_" again, loud enough for all to hear.

"I…choose _freedom!_" he ground out, resolute in his decision.

Guardian's confusion was only just beginning to clear. "Feels like…fog…lifting."

Kaldur regarded the now aware hero. "Guardian?"

The helmeted man frowned, realizations long ignored, forcibly so, coming to him. "Go. I'll deal with Desmond."

"I think not." Guardian turned, and the genomorphs parted to reveal a rather putout looking Dr. Desmond, his face furrowed into a grimace.

The blonde teen clenched his hands, fists shaking from the fury he held in check. It took all he had not to snarl at him. The blonde inadvertently cracked his knuckles from the tightness of his fists, glaring menacingly at the doctor. "Hey, doc. Been meaning to have a word with you about your bedside manner," he snarled. Despite the usual control he maintained, his eyes bled crimson, a sign of his youki being drawn out by his anger.

"Yes, well, there'll be plenty of time for that after I've put you back in your cell." Glaring equally balefully at them all, "Project Blockbuster will give me the power to restore order to CADMUS," raising up a tube of bright blue fluid. And in one swift move, he brought it to his lips…and drained it all down into his gullet. Almost immediately, they all thought something had gone wrong, backing up from what they were witnessing. There was a sickening creaking and crunching of bones as Desmond writhed in apparent pain and discomfort. Falling to his knees, there followed a tearing sound. First of cloth…then of flesh. It was like his outer skin was being molted off, revealing a rough looking, dark, new epidermis underneath. Glasses flying off, his eyes opened, red rimmed with black. Standing, his new form looming over them all, he roared out angrily, bits of his old skin still draped over his now grotesque features.

"Everyone, back!" Guardian ordered, running at the beast. The transformed Desmond swatted him away like a fly.

Superboy or the blonde, it was a tossup who charged first.

"Hey, doc. It hurts when I do _this!_" he roared out, unleashing a heavy blow to the creature's abdomen, working the kidneys. Superboy in turn went for the face. Desmond caught Superboy with a downward hammer-like fist, and meant to do the same to the blonde, but missed. But Superboy wasn't finished. Recovering almost immediately, he started delivering blow after blow to Desmond's head. And with his super strength, it was quite disturbing that the beast would not fall. Leaping away from the blonde, intercepting Superboy's downward strike, the pair of combatants went upward and through the ceiling.

"Okay, that's one way to bust through the ceiling," Robin admitted, drawing out his grapple.

"You think lab coat planned that?" KF wondered aloud.

"I doubt he is planning anything anymore," Kaldur admitted.

To the side the perturbed blonde stepped up and grabbed Kid Flash by the shoulder. "Let's go," he growled, jumping, carrying the speedster with him by the collar. Behind, Robin shot up through the hole, Kaldur jumping up after.

They were in the lobby, and Desmond and Superboy were still going at it. Grabbing the attacking teen by his legs, the beast threw Superboy like a hammer back at them, carrying Kaldur to the ground.

Clambering back up, the five faced off against the hulking monster.

As one, they attacked.

Kid Flash raced at him. Desmond tried to hammer him into the ground, but missed when the teen skidded under and behind him. Turning to focus on his prey he missed the double set of fists into his ugly craw, courtesy of Superboy and Kaldur. Using his position, Kid Flash let the not so gentle giant tumble over him. "Learned that one in kindergarten," he snarked. Robin leaped over him, launching a handful of razor sharp projectiles.

Desmond swatted them away, but exposed his back.

The blonde fell from above, twin, energy-formed, claw-like fists driving him face first into the floor. Stunned only for a second, Desmond bucked, throwing him off, and plowing forward into Superboy, carrying them into a support column where he started to bash the boy's face in.

On his third punch, a whip of water ensnared his arm. Yanking on reflex, he jerked the Atlantean teen towards him, receiving a kick to the chin for his efforts. And once more, the blonde was there. The large claws seemingly shrunken over his own hands, he knocked him away from them with a powerful fist to the temple.

Desmond staggered, but whipped his hand around, catching the teen full in the face. He was thrown head first into an adjacent column. Grabbing Aqualad's descending water mace, he slammed the teen into the floor before throwing the dazed Superboy over him and into a column, cracking it badly.

KF sped forward, grimacing. Trying to grab onto Desmond and use his momentum to throw him, he was unexpectedly snagged as soon as he made purchase. No sooner had he grabbed the beast's arm, when it had in turn grabbed him and jerked him away, throwing him into Aqualad. Once more, the columns took a hit.

But Desmond wasn't done; he followed after and took himself and Kaldur right through the column, destroying its base.

* * *

><p>From the side, trying to piece together a plan, Robin noticed almost immediately the way the building shook after the column was wrecked. Eyes widened behind his mask. "Of course!" Hurriedly pulling up a schematic on his wrist display, "KF, get over here!" he bellowed.<p>

* * *

><p>Superboy got back up.<p>

Nailing the monster in the lower back, he leapt up and wrapped his arms around its head. Unperturbed, the beast threw his previous punching bag, Kaldur, away, before grabbing the arms around its throat and swinging Superboy overhead and once more into a column.

The column started to crumble.

* * *

><p>Similarly, Robin was showing Kid Flash a display of the columns, and how one, weakened, had already compromised the building's structure. "Got it?"<p>

"Got it!" and raced away in a yellow and red blur.

* * *

><p>Pinning Superboy's arms to his sides, the beast raised him overhead when it was caught by a weak, but still annoying, punch to the face, as Kid Flash rocketed by.<p>

Looking down at his hand, the teen speedster felt a little queasy. "Heh, got your nose!" he declared. Literally. He had the remains of the man's former face in his hands. It seemed to annoy him enough though as he threw Superboy aside and went after him. KF dodged blow after blow in favor of keeping him busy.

To the side, the blonde teen staggered to his feet. His scalp was red from a little blood, but the wound was already healed.

"Superboy! Aqualad!" He turned, focusing on his surroundings, listening as the one in red and black started dishing out orders.

* * *

><p>"Come and get me you incredible bulk!" KF taunted, dodging the blow. The column just behind where he'd been standing was destroyed though as Desmond went through it. But KF staggered when he was hit from behind by the flying rubble. This provided the monster-man the time necessary to get right behind him, laying into him.<p>

* * *

><p>"Go!" Robin ordered.<p>

Kaldur and Superboy went about their tasks.

Reaching into his belt, Robin took out some "special" projectiles.

Superboy and Kaldur destroyed a pair of surviving pillars at one end.

* * *

><p>Eyes widening just slightly in understanding. The blonde went to a pillar of his own. Raising his hand, a ball of energy formed before he drove it home. The pillar blew apart.<p>

* * *

><p>"Sorry, try again," KF continued as another column was destroyed via Desmond. Roaring out angrily, the beast chased after him. Racing away, Kid Flash skidded to a stop, sliding over the water brought on by Kaldur. Still roaring, the beast loomed down on him until Superboy, coming from the side, landed a hit right into its head, knocking it onto its backside where it slid in the water, right onto the spot marked by Robin. Fingers spread, Kaldur's hands blazed with electricity as he brought them down. The beast went rigid as the energy arced over him, crying out in pain.<p>

"Move!" Robin urged.

There was a distinct humming before several exploding weapons, each to a column, came to life and erupted, taking them down. The roof not too long after, directly onto the monster Desmond.

* * *

><p>The building was effectively leveled. In its place there was only a hole leading down to Sub-Level 1, framed by the broken remains of the lobby-level foundation.<p>

A fist shot up through the rubble. Superboy hefted the slab of concrete and rebar before throwing it to the side. Around him, now able to move freely, the others rose.

"Gah…hah…we…did it," Kaldur breathed, voice tinged with a hint of pride, looking to the others. They all looked the worse for wear, their uniforms fairly trashed, not counting the aches and pains they all sported.

"Was there…ever any…doubt?" Robin cracked, before high-fiving Kid Flash. Bad move. The pair cringed, each one tending to bruised or broken ribs. Shuffling, they made their way clear of the debris until they stood before the now down and out Desmond, ugly as can be.

"See?" Superboy turned to KF who pointed upward. "The moon." The clone stared upward at the lunar satellite, entranced. He had seen it before, in the learning sessions of the genomes, but… There was something…profound, about seeing it for himself. He very nearly lost himself in thought, absorbed as he was. Until something started to descend from its general direction. "Oh! _And_ Superman. Do we keep our promises, or what?"

The superboy…didn't really know what to say. This was the one he'd been created in the image of. What do you say to something like that?

The so dubbed "Superman" descended from the sky and into the depression, landing in front of them. Not too long after, he was flanked by several others. Those just behind him were obviously the big names. But others were there as well. Various individuals flocked around them in similarly colorful garb, surrounding the crater that was once the CADMUS research lab. Surrounding them.

They all showed signs of tension, but only the blonde took an overtly hostile stance at the costumed individuals encircling them. Not again. He'd be damned before he let himself be captured again. His normal chakra coalesced, licking off his skin. If they had plans on him, he'd make them work for it.

"Stand down, boy," the man bearing the same shield as "Superboy" urged placatingly.

But no. He'd had enough. "Not likely," he growled. "I didn't trade one cage for another. Death first." Batman quirked a brow at that admission.

Blurring to the blonde's side, "Dude, chill, they're the good guys," Kid Flash hissed. But the blonde didn't relax a muscle.

"Depends on what they're planning to do," he growled back.

"You can trust us." He locked eyes with "Superman".

"I've had a long month. Trust isn't too likely." That was as close a guess as he had for the amount of time he'd been a "guest" in the wrecked facility below.

"Do you trust _us_?" Kaldur asked, sidling up beside him.

The blonde sent him a weary glance. "I've known you all of fifteen minutes," he countered. "But still…more than I trust them."

Robin smirked. "You're with us, guy. No worries."

Yeah, right.

Jaw clenching, he straightened back up a little, pulling the chakra back.

But the tensions didn't stop there. Superman's gaze had lingered longest on the white clothed teen, and it was only now that the blonde was reassured that he stepped forward. Expression turning scrutinizing, the elder Kryptonian looked across at the approaching teen. Gaining what he felt was adequate proximity to the guy in blue, he reached up to the scrap of cloth hanging from his ruined solar suit, rearranging it to reveal the sigil.

A very familiar red S.

The younger of the pair looked up imploringly, as if seeking approval or recognition. Which was the long and short of it.

Superman's eyes widened noticeably before his face set into a frown. Something that sent the small, hopeful smile from the teen copy as fast as if it had been stolen by the speedster in their ragtag group. It was the black clad man just next to him that voiced his opinion first. "Is that what I think it is?"

Kid Flash coughed uncomfortably. "He doesn't like being called an "it"," he called out in a hushed voice.

Superboy seemed to have lost any pretenses. They didn't like him… So, screw them. "I'm Superman's clone," he broke in, openly admitting what they suspected. That got some mixed murmurings amongst the ranks. Apparently this was a big deal. The cowled man's eyes narrowed.

"Start talking."

* * *

><p>The "heroes" had dispersed. The unneeded went their own way. A select few were chosen to secure and transport the newly minted Blockbuster, formerly Dr. Desmond, to a prison facility. But with the big names on scene, that left the motley group of assembled teens to stand awkwardly on the sidelines and watch. And wait, too, as, to the side, a trio from the more "mature" crowd were discussing their fate.<p>

The man in blue, Superman, a woman in a rather revealing red, blue, and gold outfit, and a…well, he wasn't quite sure what the green…man was.

"They get any ideas and I'm gone," the blonde growled. Usually he was far more amicable than this, but, then, he'd had better days. Correction, months.

Superboy sent a disappointed glare at Superman's back. "I hear you."

Kid Flash rolled his eyes. It was the only thing he could do as everything else would cause him pain. "Come on, they're the good guys," he cajoled. "They're our teachers. You don't have to act so hostile."

"The kid's right," the adult speedster offered. Being their unofficial watcher, he was doing just that while the others conducted their clandestine talks.

The blonde openly grimaced before sending a chilling glare at the crimson clad hero. "I'm sorry. Were you there when they decided to test my pain tolerance? No? Then mind your own business." Grumbling to himself, "I mean, I can handle pain. It just got annoying after the first few times."

Oh, yeah. Better days, indeed.

"So, I hope you can understand my lack of trust, red man."

Smiling just a little, mostly from exasperation, "The name's Flash. I work with the shrimp next to you." Earning an indignant "Hey!" from Kid Flash.

"Now that I think of it, you haven't told us your name," Robin interrupted. The highly irritable blonde blinked owlishly. Come to think of it, crazy rushed as they were, introductions hadn't really come to mind.

"Naruto." And that was as far as he would extend that particular olive branch. For now.

"Huh. Weird name," Kid Flash responded bluntly. Ignoring his friend's lack of tact, Aqualad offered his hand.

"It has been an honor to meet and fight alongside you." The blonde blinked before shrugging. Reaching out, the pair clasped forearms.

"No problem. Far as I'm concerned, I owed you for getting me out."

"I would speak with the lad." Heads turned to the newest speaker, a gnarled, gargoyle-esque creature with yellow skin and red eyes, its demonic visage furthered by the batlike ears and twin horns on the crown of its brow. There weren't many who could say they didn't recognize the squat figure of the demon Etrigan, an off-and-on member of the Justice League.

Wary eyes meeting those of the caped demon, he stepped off from the others. His instincts told him it, he, could be trusted, or that it wasn't an immediate threat. Either way, he didn't feel the need to seek consent with the other teens.

* * *

><p>(Back with the teens)<p>

"Interesting," Robin murmured, one word caught by the rest of their group.

"This could explain why he's so strong," Kaldur offered.

"Or…he could be jealous of blondie's epic haircut."

* * *

><p>(With Etrigan and Naruto)<p>

"The power of a demon lies within you," the demon-man stated baldly after a momentary, measuring silence, his voice grating but his words cultured, even if the blonde didn't know it. "What business have you with their ilk?"

He was too tired for games, so he settled for a limited bit of truth. "Victim of circumstance," the teen answered curtly. "I was used as a prison, but recently I beat the demon and absorbed its power." That was as short as he could make it without giving too much or not enough, no matter how it sounded. The yellow skinned demon raised a brow in circumspection before nodding.

"To cage a demon. Where you come from, a grand existence that?"

"…One I could have lived without," the blonde cracked mirthlessly. The two seemed to understand one another a little better from that one question. "And, no, I didn't choose this. I never would have, either."

Etrigan tilted his head. "Aye, that I understand well enough, lad." That was really all he'd needed to know.

* * *

><p>(A Few Minutes Later)<p>

Their fates seemed to have been decided as the tight circle broke. "Superman" broke away and strode towards them. Despite all that had transpired between the pair in unspoken critiquing, the elder Kryptonian focused on the young clone. "We'll, uh, we'll figure something out for you. The League will, I mean." It didn't take a genius to see the big guy was uncomfortable with thte situation. "For now, I'd…better make sure they…get that Blockbuster creature squared away." His words towards the end came out in a quick stream, before he turned and shot upward.

Superboy's scowl didn't lessen.

"CADMUS _will_ be investigated." Heads turned as "Batman" and some guy in orange and green at his flank headed their way, Flash speeding to join them. "All 52 levels…but let's make one thing clear."

"You should've called." Flash interrupted, receiving a subtle glare for it. It made him sound like a mother hen.

"End results aside, we are not happy," Batman picked up again, his grating tone…still grating. "You hacked Justice League systems, disobeyed direct orders, and endangered lives."

Naruto wasn't really liking him for this. Considering they'd freed him, the black clad man could take his opinion and shove it right up his spandex loving ass.

"You will _not_ be doing this again."

Silent for the lashing, the assembled teens now rallied in defiance. "I am sorry, but we will," Kaldur countered, speaking for them all.

"Aqualad, stand down," the orange and green wearing man ordered.

Kaldur bowed his head apologetically. "Apologies, my king…but _no_." Apparently surprised by the retort, Aquaman's brow creased, more intrigued than disturbed by the outright defiance in his protégé, and the determination in his eyes matched by the others around him. "We did good work here tonight. The work you trained us to do. Together, on our own, we forged something powerful, important."

"If this' about your treatment at The Hall, the three of you-" But now it was Flash's turn to be cut off.

"The _five_ of us," Kid Flash corrected. "And it's not."

Crossed arms dropping to his sides, "Batman, we're ready to use what you taught us," Robin implored. "Otherwise, why teach us at all?"

"Why let _them_ tell us what to do?" Superboy demanded, having long had enough of the elder heroes trying to assert their wills over them. Not gonna happen. No one was gonna tell him what to do anymore. "It's simple: get onboard or get out of the way," laying down the ultimatum for them.

"What we do is our choice," Naruto added, openly glaring. Like Superboy, he had no connection to the ones before them. So he wasn't asking permission. "You can't order us and expect we'll agree with you." He felt a surge of camaraderie with the other teens, and he had never been a fan of people who arrogantly threw their weight around. You had to prove yourself and earn his respect for him to tolerate that kind of crap.

As one they stood, their words spoken, decision made.

* * *

><p>Mount Justice<br>July 8th, 8:04am (3 days later)

"This cave was the original secret sanctuary of the Justice League. We're calling it into service again. Since you five are determined to stay together and fight the good fight…you'll do it on League terms." "Red Tornado volunteered to live here and be your supervisor. Black Canary's in charge of training. _I_ will deploy you on missions."

"_Real_ missions?" Robin asked in verification.

"Yes, but covert."

Standing just behind Wally, Flash added onto that. "The League will still handle the obvious stuff. There's a reason we have these big targets on our chests."

"But CADMUS proves that the bad guys are getting smarter," Aquaman continued. "Batman needs a team that can operate on the sly."

"The six of you will be that team," the dark knight finished.

"Cool," Robin crowed before blanching. "Wait, six?" To answer his question, Batman looked past them. Heads turned to see J'onn walking in…a petite, feminine, red-haired martian at his side. A few dark green freckles splashed her cheeks just under her eyes, nervous excitement poured off of her.

"This is the Martian Manhunter's niece: Miss Martian," he introduced.

"Hi," she greeted, left hand coming up to wave nervously.

KF grinned from ear to ear. "Things are starting to look up!" A few heads subtly shook at the irrepressible speedster.

AN/ Man, I've been wanting to put this out for a while now. I first started this when the series started up on tv. At the time, I'd wanted to continue on with it. Now, I just want to at least put this starter out there. Maybe _someday_ I'll do something about it. But by no means consider this ongoing. I just wanted it out there.


	4. Naruto's Exodus From Hell (NrtoBleach)

Naruto's Exodus From Hell

Disclaimer: Don't own Bleach or Naruto

_Thought_  
>Speech<p>

* * *

><p>Prologue<p>

Few people can say they know Hell. In truth, Hell, the concept, does little to portray what the place, the state of being, is actually like. He knew Hell. He'd been there after all. Until he'd escaped. Impossible, right?

Wrong.

The gates of the damned cannot hold back the pure of heart, of soul.

That doesn't mean it didn't take some time though. Several hundred years in the living world, not counting the fact that even a few minutes is the equivalent of a lifetime in Hell.

* * *

><p>Flickering at first, a pair of skeletal gates appeared in the sky. Appearing, then fading away. With each appearance, a loud "thoom" sound, almost like thunder, cracked over the skies.<p>

The gates appeared.

"THOOM!"

They vanished.

They reappeared.

"THOOM, THOOM!"

This went on for hours in the thickly clouded night sky, giving some illusion that the sound was that of thunder and not the ghostly apparition above.

* * *

><p>From the porch offshoot of his shop, a man in a green-striped bucket hat watched with grim fascination, as he had since it all started. "Tessai?"<p>

"Ready, boss," the large man answered crisply.

"Let's go."

* * *

><p>(Play <em>Savin' Me<em> by Nickelback)

The gates snapped into focus…but with no thunderous accompaniment. Instead, a wide blade clawed its way through the space dividing the two gates, separating them in its purchase. The skeletal doors creaked, inching open a seemingly miniscule amount. But it was enough. After an age, fingers slipped into the gap the wedged blade had improvised. Groaning, the gates slowly, grudgingly, gave way. Fingers, grime and blood encrusted, further pried open the way.

Hours.

Days.

All a matter of perspective,

Slowly the barriers parted, and at their zenith, there was just enough time for a tattered object to fall through, its ragged body falling like a broken kite from the heavens.

(End _Savin' Me_)

* * *

><p>He couldn't move. How long had he been in that place? That…Hell? How long had it been since he'd known the sun?<p>

Better yet, how long ago had he escaped? Minutes? Hours? He seemed in a perpetual daze as he lay there. Blue eyes, once shining with hope now glazed over, dulled and unseeing.

The wind… He could feel the wind.

"Well, aren't you a mess," someone mused, a shadow stretching over him as the world faded away.

* * *

><p>His eyes snapped open, waking from the memories he'd hoped were only nightmares. His heart beat a jackhammer-like tattoo against his ribs even still.<p>

Wait… He was inside? What was going on? Even more important, "WHAT THE HELL'RE YOU DOING?!" he shrieked. A dark-skinned man with cornrows, glasses, and a prominent mustache was laying over him.

"Ah! A healthy respon-Woah!" the man started to say, but was thrown off before he could finish, crashing into the wall across the room.

Struggling to his feet, aching body protesting heartily, his eyes searched all over the room for an egress. There! Striding shakily across the room, he slid the door open and passed through. "Urahara-CHOP!" Unfortunately, the moment he stepped through the doorway, he was clotheslined, falling backward onto the hard floor. Landing hard on his back, adding to his aches and pains, he looked up to see who'd knocked him down. Standing over him was an unkempt blonde man with a green-striped, white bucket hat, and, to his everlasting surprising, was wearing a goofy grin. In his hand though was a cane, most likely the offending item.

"Not so fast," he chided, sing-songing smugly. "You're still not healed yet." The downed blonde paused, recognizing that voice.

"_Well, aren't you a mess,_" he remembered.

Reaching down, the man grabbed him by the upper arm, pulling him to his feet a second later. "C'mon, back to bed with you," he lectured, ushering him back into the room. He complied, grudgingly. A part of him was screaming to escape the confines and be outside under the sky... The ever lingering impression taken from…something long gone, and the driving desire brought on by his recently escaped imprisonment. "And maybe you can tell me how you made it out of Hell," he added, closing the door behind them.

* * *

><p>"My name…" he tried to calm his mind. It just felt so…surreal, introducing himself to someone again. "My name's Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki." Words felt strange on his tongue. It had been so long. And yet not. The funny thing about Hell was that it defied all conventions tied to reality. He could swear he knew who he was for every moment of his eternal purgatory, and yet, at the same time, like he was hardly aware of himself at all.<p>

And those were the least of the tortures.

* * *

><p>Once his story was finished, the blonde man, now known as Kisuke Urahara, whistled in appreciative awe. "Well, sounds like you got shafted."<p>

"Indeed," agreed Tessai from where he sat next to Urahara, arms crossed over his broad chest. He looked like a really muscular nerd.

"How long?"

Kisuke's brow rose. "Hm?"

"How long…was I in there?"

She shop owner shrugged. "There's no way to know for sure, but from the events you described… I'd say anywhere from four, maybe five hundred years. Give or take some change. I can't say for certain since our knowledge of real world history is pretty poor." Sighing, he scratched at his stubble. "Honestly, I'm still having issue with the fact that you're still as sane as you are. That dimension is supposed to destroy souls." The dimension itself existed to torment the souls within, destroying them. The konso was the judge, discerning between good souls and bad. Soul reapers could, under extreme circumstances, open the gates without konso, but the times that had happened were exceedingly rare. He appraised the seemingly young man. So why did the soul reaper in question do so for him? Equally if not more puzzling, how did his soul survive? And just how did he manage to not only summon a zanpaktou, but escape the purgatorial dimension.

"Lucky me," he mumbled sourly. "It's Hell. It's for bad folk." Looking up to the two men who'd given him aid, "I've only ever tried to help others. Whenever I thought about that…it wasn't as bad. Not long ago, I can't really remember when, a sword appeared in my hands, and I was actually able to get the doors open. Still…I had _other_ drives to keep me focused as well."

Interest perking up a bit, "And what were those?" Kisuke asked idly.

The bedridden blonde looked up, his blue eyes shining fiercely. "I want to face my "judge" again." His burning gaze dropped. "I won't ask if you know who I'm looking for. I can sense you're both shinigami." It would be difficult if not impossible to forget that…feel to their energy that gave them away. He'd sensed it in the one who'd sent him down, but, there was also the odd case of familiarity to the energy, as if he'd felt it long before his death. "But I don't want to involve anyone else in what'll most likely end up as murder." Ignorant to anything else said, he let his focus slip.

Sighing deeply, tiredly, he closed his eyes and drifted off.

* * *

><p>The nightmares returned.<p>

Surprisingly, and ironically, Hell held few surprises for the blonde. Living a little of Hell for his whole life had somewhat desensitized him. Yeah, Hell was big with the irony. That's not saying it wasn't bad though. Regardless of his resistance, it still found ways to get to him, ways to make him hurt and bleed, if not literally.

Jerking upright, he awoke in a cold sweat, his throat far too dry to scream out his pained despair, yet he still managed a raspy, choking moan.

It was the way of things; his pain was to see the pain of others.

To see others suffer, and be unable to do anything to prevent or help it.

The pain of those he cared about most.

It was only the experiences of his life that really got him through it all. He was a survivor. Always had been. Like he'd said to Nagato, he would keep walking, no matter what pain he experienced. After all…

That was who Naruto was.

And he had survived.

He lived to spit in the face of defeat.

…But no one could escape such a place unscathed, if at all. His soul though bright and pure, was in no way as it once was, scarred and weary as it was now.

* * *

><p>He stayed with them for a few years, taking on an official position as an assistant to Tessai, learning enough to survive in this changed world before setting off on his own. Not having a way into Soul Society, he waited. There was nothing else to do. Due to memories passed on from Kyubi, not to mention his own youki, he was able to condense his spirit energy and recreated a living body, though it took some time and a lot of doing.<p>

But he was done with life as a human.

Instead, he lived as a fox. A handy transformation trick courtesy of his lessons under Kirabi. Few people paid much attention to the little vulpine as it slipped around, even if it was golden yellow and had gloriously blue eyes.

And for a time he was happy again.

For a time.

By his and Kisuke's best reckoning, to survive, not only had his soul drawn out his goodness and power to develop the powers of a shinigami to help him escape, but, conversely, Kisuke theorized that the demonic energy taken from the Kyubi had helped as well to keep his soul intact. Unfortunately or fortunately, depending on your outlook, it meant embracing the more primal natures of that energy.

Thus it wasn't four years down the line that things…changed. Not so much for the worse, just…changed. And so it was that he was introduced to some of Kisuke's…associates.

Putting aside his thoughts of vengeance against a certain shinigami, and trying his utmost to bury his Hellish memories, he reveled in his freedom from Hell's embrace, back in the world of the living. Heck, he was almost orgasmic at being back in a real forest, in the presence of it all.

* * *

><p>38 Years Later:<p>

A familiar man in a green-striped bucket hat and geta strolled through the calf high grass, nearing the edge of the tree line. Draped bonelessly over his shoulders, a midnight black feline with brilliantly golden eyes. Spotting what he was looking for, he altered his course for a specific tree and sat down with his back against the trunk. To his side, a golden, furry eyelid rose, lazily taking him in.

"…Kisuke…"its owner acknowledging his presence. The brilliantly blue eye looked up. "…And Yoruichi…" It let out a faint, but still exaggerated breath. "What'd you do _this_ time, Kisuke?" almost groaning. On its back, a golden fox, about the same size as the cat on the man's shoulders, was sunning itself.

The hat wearing man looked down with nothing less than absolute shock and hurt pride, "What makes you think _I_ did something?"

The fox let out a loud snort of laughter, not even bothering to conceal it. "Because it's you," it retorted. "I've known you just over four decades, but, without even trying, you get into almost as much shit as I do when I try…and that says a lot." Instead of being ashamed in any way, the scruffy man shrugged, grinning impishly.

"Well, I try," he excused proudly, taking a seat on the ground. Plucking a blade of grass, he stuck the leaflet between his lips and a relaxed silence fell over them. And just like that, his demeanor shifted. "I take it you felt that burst of spiritual pressure last night?"

"…So what if I did?"

Grass blade held between his teeth, "It was from Ishin Kurosaki's boy."

That at least got him a little attention. "Ishin's boy?"

"That's right."

A thoughtful expression crossed the fox's muzzle. "I could've sworn it was from a shinigami."

"It's all a little complicated."

"Would it be normal if it wasn't?" Rolling on its side, the lithe canine fixed him with a curious stare. "Well, at least complicated is fun. Spill it. What'd the chibi get himself into?"

* * *

><p>Once Kisuke finished outlining the story, "Well, shit. The chibi's really stepped in it." A soul reaper, a seated officer, chases a pair of Hollow through Karakura, and through shear fucked-up circumstances transfers their reiatsu into a depressing, borderline emo teenager, turning him into a soul reaper. "Only around us, can this shit happen," snickered the fox. "But, okay, I'll bite. What's this got to do with me?"<p>

"We want you to watch the boy and see to it he doesn't die," spoke the cat in a smooth baritone. The fox glared back at the feline.

"Nope. Sorry," he answered, and rolled back around into a more comfortable position.

"Not to remind you, but there's still the matter of a certain IOU…" the man mentioned in an offhand manner.

Head shooting up to glare death at him, "For this? You wouldn't," the fox scoffed.

Kisuke grinned, widely. "Sure about that?"

* * *

><p>3 days later:<p>

"_Kisuke…You bastard. I'll kill you_," griped a tall blonde youth as he trudged along the sidewalk.

One bowl of ramen. One fuckin' bowl. For that he'd signed a blank-check IOU to that bucket-hat bastard. Gaah! These clothes were horribly restrictive. Hell, he'd shredded the first two pairs in the store just stretching. Damn shoddy. He'd had to pay for those as well.

That aside… It was interesting, to say the least, being back in his human form.

You never really appreciate the wonder of an opposable thumb until the closest approximation is a dew claw.

He absentmindedly thought about all he'd heard about this "high school." In the years he'd been around, he'd never really felt a need to check it out. So any information he had was strictly hearsay. Kisuke'd said it was a "haven for young minds." Whatever. Maybe it would be interesting.

* * *

><p>This…sucked.<p>

This…embodiment…of all that was droll and monotonous made him oh so tempted to brain himself using a sturdy wall, and he'd only just arrived. Humming loudly to himself he waited for the teacher to return. Why the Hell did he need to introduce himself to the class anyway?

He inwardly tensed. It had been a while since he'd last been among so many strangers. There were roughly thirty to thirty-five students already inside, sitting at the desks. It wasn't too hard to spot Ishin's boy, Ichigo.

It never was.

He'd stopped in to congratulate Ishin when Masaki had conceived, and again when she'd given birth. From the start, the chibi had a fair amount of spiritual energy. More than was normal.

From time to time, he'd make a pass by the Kurosaki residence, unnoticed in his fox form. Just checking up on friends. It had been a dark time for Ishin after her death. He respected the man even more for holding himself together for his family.

Like himself, the boy had hair that looked like it gave off light. Back in the hall, he'd done a passive sweep of the school in search of the shinigami Kisuke'd mentioned. Now inside though, he spotted the first right where he'd sensed her, right next to the carrot top. Her energy levels immediately told him that she had been the one to transfer her powers. As they were, her levels were downright piddling. "Hm? Oh, right. Sorry," he apologized for trailing off, ignoring the teacher's suggested introduction. "Well, it's nice to meet you all. The name's Naruto. Naruto Uzumaki," he finished, hoping that he wasn't tempting the capricious fates by giving his real last name. Urged to take a desk, he did so, moving to the nearest one. Seated, the teacher continued with the material the class had been going over already.

* * *

><p>Ishin Kurosaki woke from a deep sleep. He didn't remember the dream; it hadn't been one that mattered. If it had, <em>she<em> would've been in it, and he would have committed it to memory. Taking note of the still empty space next to him on the bed, the unslept on pillow and sheets, he sighed before climbing out of bed. Slipping on his robe, he quietly left his room, not wanting to wake his children. Creeping down the stairs, he was as silent as a ghost. Entering the dining area, he was about to flick on the lights but didn't, stopping himself.

"Hey, Ishin."

The only thing that actually surprised the former shinigami in the dim lighting, from the street lamps outside the windows, were the empty bottles littering the table. "Trying to get drunk again?"

"Yep."

Occasionally, the two would get together and try to outdrink one another. A contest that soon proved moot as they quickly discovered the blonde's metabolism burned through the alcohol as fast as he could imbibe it. They didn't know who cussed more about it. Him for losing the bet, or the blonde for not being able to get smashed.

Still, funny as Hell.

"This have anything to do with-"

"Yep." The bottle, now empty, was placed back on the table, just another dead soldier. "I was planning on beating the crap out of Kisuke, but the jackass hid himself pretty well." Another fun pastime. When he got really ticked off, the blonde would usually hunt down the source of his troubles, which usually ended with Kisuke leaving town for the day.

Ishin eyed the "young" man critically. "You sure you're not overreacting? It's only high school."

The blonde fingered the label of the last full bottle, hesitant. "It's not about that, Ishin," he corrected, fatigue etched into his voice and features. "You know I don't socialize." The doctor nodded. "It's…surreal. I died around their age, now here I am trying to wedge myself back in. I look at them…and feel really old."

The bottle was pulled from his fingers by Ishin who was now taking a deep draw of the lightly colored alcohol before passing the bottle back. But the blonde ignored it in favor of staring dully off in another direction, eyes unfocused. Ishin knew what he was thinking. It was something he'd wondered about when he'd first…taken retirement, as he liked to look at it. It hadn't been so difficult for him. He'd had a reason for dropping off the grid. Falling in love. The best kind of reason.

He wouldn't presume to know everything about him, but he would go as far as to say that, well, the "kid" needed a woman in his life to beat the common sense into him. And get him to "live". That was what Masaki had done for him. She'd opened his eyes.

The younger of the two sighed. "Thanks for the drinks, Ishin. I'll get Kisuke to replace them," he offered, standing. And as quietly as he'd arrived, he was gone.

Turning his eyes to the movie poster on the dining room wall, Ishin focused solely on the face of the woman depicted on it, his late wife. He was sorely tempted to kill the bottle, but he cherished the pain. It reminded him just how much he loved her, and that he missed her because he _had_ had her. It's easier to get along knowing what you had than never knowing, right?

* * *

><p>Tuesday (Untold days later):<p>

Biting into his sandwich, he watched the various groups of students eat and talk together. It was kind of nostalgic. Especially the part where he would eat alone, not allowed to join the others his age for fear of the adults that hated him so.

The good old days.

It was truly ironic that, here he was, the watchful eye over Ichigo. A boy not too dissimilar from himself, when he himself had died around that age, if you didn't count the perma-scowl. Their natures were just so very similar.

Something that worried him to no end. With how things were going for him, reminding the blonde of how his own life had went, Ichigo was going to get in deep, soon, and the odds were pretty fair he'd end up dead. Talk about history repeating itself.

Well, he thought it was interesting.

Beneath the white button-down, the familiar weight resting against his collar bone reminded him further of times past. It'd been something of a mystery to him and the others when he'd been found. In his left hand had been his zanpaktou, but in his right… Held in an iron grip had been a necklace. A simple necklace with six blood-red, seemingly flawless, carved magatama. Something that had felt oddly familiar to him. And since that "day one" it'd never left him, not even when Kisuke'd bugged him about taking a look at it.

It just felt…right. To keep it close.

"Happy thoughts?"

Tilting his head back, looking up, he met a pair of golden eyes. Leaning its head over the awning was a black cat. "Yoruichi," he greeted discretely, not wanting to draw attention to the fact that he was talking to a cat. "Checking up on me?"

"Well, I was bored and since there wasn't much else to do… Besides, wouldn't you like me to stick around? Maybe I should change forms and you can show all your classmates the level of game you play at." And, if he didn't know the truth, that would've sounded really weird, what with the voice.

"You mean tell them how you and the others have your way with me whenever you please?" No shame there. Cat's, after all, had nothing to feel ashamed for. Relenting to the bored gaze, "Best not to traumatize them too much," he chastised. "They're in highschool." Oh, the many ways to read that answer.

"It's been so long since you visited me last," Yoruichi purred. "I've got an itch that really needs to be scratched."

Ignoring the more personal bits, Naruto understood what she was saying. She wouldn't come out and admit that she'd done something because she'd been told or asked. She was a cat, somewhat, and cats only did whatever suited them. Sigh, feline pride.

As to what she was implying… Long story short, being the hybrid that he was, he was subject to the mating urges of his demonic side. Not that Yoruichi wasn't at fault as well, what with her so very open sensuality. He'd become the neko's sex toy whenever she felt the urge. And she hadn't been the only one to use him as such. Two of his…masked friends had quickly decided that such was a great use for him.

Not that he complained.

But neither did he make any commitments.

It was his deepest fear.

Those he got close to…died. Be it from the passing of time when he did save them, or through a failing on his part. If was a frightening thing to realize: that by getting close to someone, you damn them. A fear that he shared with no one.

"Riiiight," he responded, sarcasm dripping from his tongue. "Anyway, all's been slow since Kingfisher hauled."

"Yes, well, that's usually how it goes. There's always a calm before the storm."

"So you feel it too?"

Yoruichi tilted _her_ head, looking at him mildly perplexed. "Feel what?"

"The calm before the storm, maybe," he answered wistfully. "I don't know. I just have this…feeling, but it could just be paranoia." Then again, there was a reason he was so very adept at surviving. His instinctual will to live aside, he listened to his feelings.

A shadow falling over him interrupted further conversation. Looking up, he caught a dark silhouette against the bright sky before his eyes adjusted, and he sweatdropped. There was no way a high school girl should have the kind of figure, let alone such a cup size. That, combined with the uniform…it shouldn't be legal. Leaning over him, smiling, was Orihime, bust gently swaying. "Naruto, why are you eating all alone?"

True, on occasion he'd eaten with them a few times. It was nostalgic, reminding him of those he knew, and yet he'd never known such casual friendship. "Orihime, I was just-ulp!"

"Come on!" she insisted, pulling him to his feet. He had just enough time to save his lunch before being hauled off.

"Um, hey guys," he greeted, nervous as ever. "Ladies," he intoned politely to the gathered few young women in their group, even bowing his head slightly.

"Hey, blondie, what was your test score?"

...

One sudden and a well-deserved moment of violence later...

Keigo was nursing a goose egg on the back of his skull a second later.

"I'm sorry, Keigo, did you say something?" the blonde asked innocently, as if he hadn't just crowned the flippant brown-haired teen.

Glaring back, the whole while clutching his noggin protectively, "How'd you do on the test?" he grunted.

"I did okay, I guess."

"…"

"I scored tenth highest."

"GEEK!" Keigo shrieked, pointing an accusatory finger at him.

Naruto just sipped his tea, tuning the doofus out.

"Don't pay him any attention," Ichigo muttered in warning. "It'll only encourage him."

Twitching in anger at being ignored on such a widespread level, "Blond-OW!"

"I happen to like my hair color, thank you, Keigo," he admonished. "And before you call me a punker, my hair is naturally blonde and spiky. That said…you wanna go for three?" fist poised. Hands waved in surrender, Keigo threw in the towel in this fight.

MULTIPLE OMAKE!

* * *

><p><em>The stone hands in front of Kukaku's home:<em>

"They come with a special feature, too."

"Yeah?"

Presses the button. Two fists bring up their middle fingers. "That is…AWESOME!"

* * *

><p>Senkaimon – Naruto gives it a kick start, literally.<p>

Kisuke raised his cane to the inactive, overly seal plastered gateway. "Let's get this show on the road! The moment the gate opens…rush in as fast as you can." Jabbing it directly into the side of the structure…

…Nothing.

Jab…Jab, jab, jab…

"Huh…That's new."

Jab, jab…

"You put in fresh batteries?" Naruto dug, smirking playfully.

The group sweatdropped.

"Well this is embarrassing. Hey, Naruto, can you…" The blonde shrugged before walking over. Standing next to the shop owner, he gave the unresponsive doohickie a lazy, but none-too-gentle kick. In a flash of light, the portal formed within. Whipping out his fan, Urahara laughed easily behind the unadorned paper surface. "Just like my tv…all it needed was a little love."

"ARE YOU FREAKIN' KIDDING ME?!" Ichigo roared out. Luckily, before he could lash out at the unruly man, Chad had restrained him. "Let me go, Chad. I'm a shinigami, and his time has come," he ranted crazily.

"No time," the giant responded, dragging Ichigo to the gate as the others had already run through ahead of them. Their time was limited.

"This isn't over, hat 'n' clogs!" Ichigo roared back over his shoulder as they all ran through, Ichigo being dragged so he wouldn't maul the shop keeper. "When I get back I'm kickin' yer ass!"

"Get in line!" echoed Naruto's challenge right after.

"Promises, promises," Urahara answered back provokingly as they crossed the threshold, just fast enough for them to hear him before crossing the threshold.

Gathering together their wits after the jarring entry, they were left evaluating the resources available to them. Given their situation, location-wise, several eyes turned to Naruto for advice on where they should go.

"What're you looking at me for? This is my first time here, too."

"Wait. You've never been to the Soul Society, have you?" Ishida guessed.

Hands perched aloft behind his head as he plodded along, "Nope. Never." He wondered just how much the Quincy would glean from this little fact.

"Then how are you a soul reaper?"

"It's really complicated, Uryuu. Let's leave that little ghost story for later," he responded curtly, effectively silencing the questions he knew the others, especially the irrepressible Orihime, would likely want to ask as a result. Telling them he'd been to Hell. What exactly he had been, and now was… Yeah, not exactly there yet.

"Why're you even here, anyway?" came Chad's deep bass voice.

Scoffing, "I didn't want to see you brats snuff it before you hit drinking age." Cue group-wide twitches and vein bulges. "This is your fight, I'm just here to make sure you all make it home alive. That said, I'm not stepping into your fights for you. I'm not your mama. When I have to haul your butts out of the fire, that's it: game called on account of rain. You get sent home."

"That's it?" Ichigo ranted. "You're a glorified babysitter?!" Crap, if they'd known this, they probably would've told him to stay behind.

"Awe, does someone need their nap?" The blow to the forehead via Zangetsu's hilt jarred him for a second, but he was resilient. "Aw, now that's just mean, Ichi-chan," he pouted before his attitude did a complete one-eighty. "Sir, I accept your challenge. As I have been the one challenged, I get to choose the weapons, the time, and the place. We shall face at two-thirty in the morning in front of the girls' locker room, and fight it out with my weapon of choice: the plantain!"

WTF?!

"Plantains? Why not bananas?"

"Orihime! Don't get sucked into his idiocy!" Uryuu urged, but it was too late. Naruto already had her in a huddle, whispering to her conspiratorially, but not so low as the others couldn't hear. "It's because I know their secret," he whispered, eyes darting around at every shadow. "The yellow ones are actually plotting to take over the world through their lovably mellow tasting nutritiousness!"

Eyes wide, Orihime's fists came up to her face in childlike awe. "Oh, wow! I always knew there was something fishy about bananas!"

As one, Ichigo, Chad, and Uryuu all palmed their faces in disbelief. "You asshole, stop corrupting her," Ichigo griped threateningly.

Leaning over, he again murmured covertly to the auburn haired girl. "See? They've gotten to him." Composing himself, he winked broadly at Orihime. "Besides, I don't corrupt people. I win them over with my natural charm." Truth. The galling, spit-in-the-eye truth. "It's irresistible…like a _virus!_"

Coughing to get their attention, Yoruichi reminded them that he was there as well. Someone with actual experience in this spiritual realm. "If you're all quite done acting like a gaggle of children-"

"Ichi-chan hit me."

Pointedly ignoring the whining blonde's baiting, "We are currently in the Rukon district."

Naruto and Yoruichi shared a glance before the former spoke up. "You'll all be travelling with Yoruichi."

"But what about you?"

Turning a cocky eye on the not so gentle giant, Naruto wore a smirk. "Me…I've got a plan."

"Well, don't keep it to yourself!" Uryu insisted irritably. "Let us in on this "plan"."

Naruto grinned. "I'm going to knock down the front door and start kicking ass. Good plan, neh?"

Uryu: "…"

Chad: "…"

Orihime: "…"

Ichigo: "Sounds good to me."

Yoruichi shook her head. That would be the kind of plan he'd think up. Her group had only actually known him for less than a century, but she knew almost from the start, that he…

That he was as direct as a rock to the face.

Still… Naruto would be the decoy, effectively drawing the heat off of their own group.

He could handle it, and that was the point.

It was an amusing plan, not to mention unlikely to ever work. For anyone else. The gates, like the walls, would simply absorb the reiryoku, and survive unblemished, but his energy was different. There was a chance that it was different enough to do the job. Just as likely, she knew he was physically the strongest specimen she'd ever encountered. He probably could, literally, kick the door down.

"Meh. Look for the biggest shit-storm around. You'll find me in the center of it all, kicking ass and taking names."

* * *

><p>Acting the part of a gentleman:<p>

"WHAM!" The gate shuddered, creaking, before, finally, it tottered and fell.

"Ladies and gentlemen," Naruto declared, stepping out of the dust cloud. "_I_ will be your entertainment for the day." He smirked. "Me-" Several clones appearing, flanking him, he jerked his head at them. "And my incredibly good looking backup singers."

* * *

><p>Bleach – Beach Day<p>

The Contest

Naruto's sand sculptor is a scene of a hot spring, with a perverted Head Captain blushing. He couldn't stop laughing his ass off at the expressions on the others' faces.

Treated to the freakiest sight ever… Uuryu, howling with laughter.

* * *

><p>The Breakout:<p>

From above, a long-stemmed sign descended through the hole and had made quick work of poking Ikaku in the head. Repeatedly.

"What the heck is that?"

Adjusting his glasses, Uryu took command. "It's latin. The sign reads _tempus fugit_ which, in layman's terms means-" but the initial sign had been discarded, rather roughly thwacking the bald shinigami upside the cranium, and replaced by a new sign apparently designed for the group as a whole.

_Time flies, dipwads. Get moving!_


End file.
